


Those Eyes Down Below

by Orestes (iantoscoffeebean)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Murder, Psychological Horror, Short Story, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iantoscoffeebean/pseuds/Orestes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Hardly an honorable burial, but his death wasn't an honorable way to die.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Eyes Down Below

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my creative writing class.

I tapped the edge of my coffee cup in an almost nervous gesture. It was mostly just a bad habit, even though this time it really wasn’t just the absent movement as usual. I’ve developed several nervous bad habits over the twenty-eight years I’ve been alive; biting my nails, tugging at my over grown hair, biting my bottom lip raw. I kept my hair short for this reason so maybe I’d stop. These ticks seem to have a negative on people; always thinking they have something to be suspicious, even when they don’t. I know they’re always watching me…like I’m a freak. 

My sister is meeting me here at my house for breakfast in about an hour. My sweet, innocent, baby sister- fresh out of college. She just got her degree in studio art, and she’s finally come home and is living in our parents’ house until she can manage to get her own job and place. It’s something that I don’t think she’ll have a problem with. She’s always been so smart, so intelligent. I’ve always been so proud of her. She wouldn’t be proud of her big brother, or what I did. The _freak_.

I stare down at what’s left of this morning’s ‘incident’- the _mass_ on my kitchen floor. _I_ put that there. It’s my fault. I let out a grateful breath that the stench hasn’t yet dispersed into the air. I know it won’t be long before it does finally reach me. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m scared and I need help: I never meant for this to happen- I take a slow, frighteningly calm sip from the now lukewarm, bitter coffee I had made for the both of us. His is still on the other side of the table right across from me. I know I’ll have to move him, but I can’t bring myself to move from this spot I’m in now as if the time that never stopped will start again, and everything will become too…real. I’ll have to move him soon; the chilled, dead, and soon to be _rotting_ mass of flesh on my kitchen floor. I shudder, though I’m not sure if it’s from the thought of touching him again, or in realization of what I did. The shock and adrenalin slowly leaving me.

I don’t even remember how I did it. I glance around the kitchen, feeling my neck creak just slightly from the prolonged time I hadn’t moved my position. The amount of blood pooling on the white tiles under him suggested puncture wounds. Butter knife, I think dully as I spot the red stained silver on the dulled edge. How innovative I can be when I’m not thinking. He would have left me, like all the others do.

“Sorry, I’m a bit late, Oliver-“ I jump at the sudden voice, wondering when I missed the sound of the door opening and the sound of footsteps. I stare wide eyed up at my sister’s confused and frozen face. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to make words that just wouldn’t come, her brow furrowed. Her eyes were glued to the body on the floor, unblinking. I sat frozen in my spot, unable to move and unable to fix what I’ve done. She’ll scream, run, _call the police_...

“…Oliver?” she mumbled after what seemed like an eternity of just waiting, holding my breath. Her gaze broke away to me, her eyes silently urging me to say something- _anything_. I can see it.

But, I stayed silent. Swallowing hard, I looked back up at her, though I couldn’t meet her eyes, afraid of the judgment that would be searing in them. I stayed almost frozen as a thick layer of tense air covered us both. My breathing was shallow, but I could hear Alice’s breath start to increase in pace by the seconds upon seconds we both sat in silence. She broke the silence first with a shuddering breath before she inhaled sharply again.

“Jesus! What the hell happened?” she gasped, her mind finally able to catch up with what she saw on the floor in front of her. Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell she was shaking and wide eyed. “Oliver!” she gasped again, sharply turning her head, “What were you thinking?” she almost sobbed, emotion heavy in her voice. There was betrayal and hurt, as well as fear and confusion. When I didn’t answer, she dropped her bag loudly on the tile and stalked over and roughly shook my shoulders. My head turned up slowly to look at her. “Answer me!” she shrieked. I barely winced.

“Well…” I started slowly, voice small and soft. She stared down at me hard. Painfully hard and urging me to go on silently. I shook my head slightly, “don’t make me say it,” I whispered, hugging myself slightly. Her face softened and her grip loosened on my shoulder. She crouched down on the ground next to my chair, trying to get level, but her head only went to my shoulder now, so she had to look up and I had to look down. She reached up to gently touch my cheek, a warm touch compared to the coldness before.  She was silent for a long moment before she began to speak again.

“Please, just tell me…tell me _why_ you did this,” she sighed, keeping her eyes averted from the body on the floor. I choked back a sob, feeling something other than just numbness for the first time in probably hours. I suck in a breath, eyes rimmed with tears. I felt hysterical, and I could almost _taste_ the copper tang of blood that’s settling on my floor.

“H-he-“ another ragged breath, “would leave,” I croak out, nearly inaudible, “d-didn’t want him to.” I began to shake. She stood up again quickly and pulled me against her chest, offering all the comfort she could to me. I know I didn’t deserve this compassion or understanding, but I was willing to except her comfort in the most selfish way possible; to pretend what I did was okay, and everything was going to be okay. She’s scared of me, I know. I’m scared of me. She simply held onto me, grip unyielding. She chose not to respond and took deep, calming breaths. Calming for both of us.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered after a while. She raised a hand and began petting my hair, gently running her fingers through the short strands.

“Don’t involve yourself, please,” I murmured miserably, voice considerably calmer than before. She stubbornly shook her head.

“No. I can’t let you deal with this on your own,” she said firmly.

“But I did this! It’s my fault!” My voice reaches another hysterical state again, and I’m shaking in my seat. She’s hugging me again in that instant, shushing me softly and sweetly.

“Oliver, listen to me,” she murmured calmly, though there was a slight hint of a tremor in her voice. I took a few deep breaths before nodding.

“Okay,” I murmured, blinking a few times as I fought back tears that threatened to fall.

“I…I will help you through this,” she murmured, “I promise you; Nothing will happen to you,” she began to stroke my hair again. I began to shake my head, but stopped, knowing that there was no point in trying to stop her.

~

It started to rain when we were driving down past the ridge to where we both know would be just the absolute _best_ place to bury all your problems. Metaphorically or physically, take your pick. The sky was darkened by the storm clouds, and the air was tense and heavy, nearly suffocating. I was deemed unstable to drive, so Alice took the wheel, gripping with both hands tightly- taking one away only to shift and turn the windshield wipers on high- and trying not to think about what’s lying in the trunk. The layers of shock were peeled away by the time we were nearing the outskirts of town, leaving me feeling shaken and raw. I glance over to see Alice not looking much better than myself. There was slight redness and puffiness around her eyes where she’d probably been close to crying. I couldn’t blame her.

The leather on the steering wheel creaked from squeezing too hard when she began to turn on the road, pulling into a gravel pathway. It was nauseatingly bumpy on the drive down this road. Soon, we were pulling into a small clearing and she parked the car, turning off the engine. The water filtered through the leaves and clumped together, leaving larger drops on the windshield.

_We were actually going to bury this body._

I suppress the shudder and glance towards Alice. She sensed the movement and turned her head to look at me, “I..I put a shovel out back with him,” she whispered, loud in the silence and the soft patter of rain. I nod, knowing that she intends me on doing the ‘dirty work’. I take a shaky breath before I take my seatbelt off and get out of the car, shivering at the first touch of the rain on my head. I walk around to the back and reach for the trunk as I heard her get out of her own side. She gives me a look I can’t quite decipher, but nods and I nod back. Silent understanding.

I take a deep breath before I open the trunk, cringing as I see the body first before I spot the shovel. I reach for the wooden handle first and take it out, quickly finding a good, soft spot to dig in. The process is long and tiring, just as I imagined it would be. My arms began to tremble-from the extension and from the cold. I toss the shovel to the side with a soft thud as it hits the soggy ground. I turn to Alice; she’s hugging her jacket around herself and watching with dazed eyes.

“I-…I’ll need help,” I murmured softly. My voice sounded pitiful and quiet. I watched as she blinked a few times once she realized what I had said and nodded with a sigh. A soft and tired sigh.  We both walk around back to the trunk and opened it. She inhaled shakily as she stared down. “Ready?” I whisper. She nods and we both reach down simultaneously. We trudged him- nearly dragging him through the mud- over to the ditch I dug. Hardly an honorable burial, but dying by butter knife isn’t an honorable way to die. He hits the ground inside the ditch with a thump and I imagine bones cracking from the impact. Alice looks at me and I look back at her, eyes flickering back to the shovel again. It’s ending. 

I pick the shovel back up and scoop up the first soft earth to toss it back onto the hole. The earth lands onto his stomach and I hear a soft moan. I glance at Alice who stares back at me, wide eyed and scared. She shook her head slowly and I see movement down below me. We look down, eyes meeting those down below, the ones that should be dead.

_Oh, shit…_

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like there's a possibility to write more into this, and I hope that I'll be able to.


End file.
